The Nanny- Sequel
by TWDwalker5
Summary: Life goes on for Eric, Tris and Violet. Six months later, they find themselves in Paris to support Eric with his business travels. As his business starts growing, he begins to have less and less time for Tris. And then something unexpected happens... and their lives are turned upside down.
1. The Start

**Oh my God, it's back!**

 **I mean, you knew it would be back right? I had a read of the last story and realized how anti-climatic it was. So obviously I had to write a sequel with a lot of twists and turns and tie a few knots because that it how I roll.**

 **I've prepared a couple of chapters and held myself back from uploading but once I got to a certain one, I could not hold back anymore. So here is the first one!**

 **I hope you enjoy, it's going to be quite a ride, this one.**

Scorching days like these remind me of how nice winter feels. Especially when you are in a different country. In this case: France.

Took us 6 months to get here, but we finally did it. I mean, I wasn't going to go anywhere with a massive bruise on my face for weeks. Eric was nice enough not to push me into anything, even though I felt guilty he had to miss out on trips. Him and Violet.

But wait, it's not like I was holding him back. He could have gone. He just chose not to.

Anyway, we are here. Paris. Middle of July. I didn't know it could get so hot. France isn't known for heat. I'm guessing it's global warming or whatever. That would explain a lot.

I pull my hair into a high ponytail, knowing that if I don't, it will start sticking to my back as time goes on. It's the worst feeling ever. It's not happening again.

I smile slightly when a muscular figure hovers behind me in the mirror. Eric pulls on a white button down shirt, and before he can do it up, his phone distracts him. He stands at the hotel door, swiping down his phone screen, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I try not to blush at the sight of his bare abdomen.

Satisfied with the image of a perfect French mademoiselle in the mirror, I turn around, my ponytail swinging behind me.

Every time they come to France, they always rent this apartment. It looks like a hotel to me because it feels like I am on holiday. But pushing that aside, we are here for business. Well… Eric is.

I can never doubt his taste. We have a massive living room with a balcony and two bedrooms on either side. There is an en-suite with our bedroom, and Violet's is just a cute space for sleep. The walls look like they were chiseled by God. There are hints of sparkling gold paint on the ceiling, twirling down to embrace each door frame visible to man.

I never asked him how much this cost because I know he can afford it. I'm done complaining and worrying about money. It's our (my) holiday. I will enjoy it.

The view of the Eiffel tower is beyond me. It's so breath taking, I could never have imagined it would look like this. It lights up when the sun goes down and the lights in the living room are redundant. The view is the best thing about this hotel.

"Are you ready to go?" his deep voice laces around me. I look up to see that he has done up his shirt, just enough to let his chest hair be visible.

I'd like to change my answer. _This_ is the best thing about this hotel. Eric.

His lips curl into a smile when I don't answer, "Tris?"

I release a laugh, walking up to him as slowly as possible. He is not patient enough, so he meets me halfway. Our lips touch tenderly, all air evacuating the room. But then again, it might just be the heat. I don't know.

As I pull away, I fast forward the day, trying to piece together all the things that need to be done. Eric will be leaving us to attend a wine meeting (which I am very jealous about) while I try and entertain Violet. She became more lenient with me in the past six months, so I'm sure we will have fun.

"You have my number," he says, almost to himself, "And my office number. So, if you get lost or anything happens, just let me know," I smirk as I watch the machinery whirl around in his head, "The meeting is only two hours long… and if you add a couple of hours to that for the time I will drive-"

"Can you stop?" I giggle, "It's not my first time with Violet."

"First time in a foreign country," he says.

"Touché," he has a fair point. We both smile at each other for a few seconds.

"Thank you for doing this," his lips meet the top of my head.

"Well, I am your nanny," I joke. Although to be precise, I am not anymore. Eric kept asking and asking for a new secretary when his old one was fired for being irresponsible, and most people were too intimidated by him to step up to the job. So, I proposed that I could fill in temporarily. And that 'temporarily' became three months.

So yes. He is my boss. Again.

The new job has its perks. I get to rule his life a little bit by organizing his diary. It's fun. It makes me feel mischievous. And, we are the only people sharing that floor. And if we decide to fuck each other's brains out on the desk, so be it.

Like I said, the job has its perks.

Eric gives me a kind smile and turns his head at the opening door on his left. Violet walks out of her room, tucking in her white shirt into her shorts. She has not changed one bit in the last six months. Maybe just got a little taller, but that's all.

She looks up at us, chin jutted out, "You ready or not?"

I'm assuming she's talking to me, so I nod, "Ready when you are." Violet gives me a tight smile, and it's always nice to see, considering most of the time she keeps her face either emotionless or straight up angry.

"Well, I'm ready," she says. When we make a circle of three people, Eric grabs underneath her armpits, picking her up.

He spends two minutes reiterating what he was saying to me. Only Violet looks like she couldn't care less. She even sneaks a scowl in my direction. I roll my eyes.

Eric kisses her cheek before putting her down and turns back to me, "Remember what I said- "

"Oh, my God, it's fine!" I laugh, nudging him in the arm, "We'll take a walk around the city and stop by a café. Everything is close. We won't get lost."

He looks at me for a long few seconds and then his face softens and he breathes out a sigh of relief, "Alright, you've convinced me."

We part ways in the lobby. Eric stops by the reception, giving me a wink as Violet and I walk out. She takes my hand when we hit the streets and lets me know that she is hungry.

"You couldn't have eaten in the apartment?" I ask, our arms swinging between us.

She shakes her head, looking at something far off in the distance, "Their food is gross."

The summer heat makes me feel slightly parched so I decide that our first stop would be the café. It's a small café. Not many people are around. Most of them are outside, sunbathing, taking long walks. But I have a child feed. And my own body needs hydrating.

Violet chooses us a two-person table next to a window. I order myself a bottle of water and Violet a children's breakfast meal. When I return to the table, she raises her eyebrows. It's her new way of smiling. She says if she smiled she would have more wrinkles in the future.

"You look gross," she states. 'Gross'. Is that her new favorite word?

I laugh softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "What? Why do I look gross?"

She shrugs, folding her legs underneath her body which makes her appear taller in her seat, "You're sweating."

I bring a hand up to my forehead and wipe with the back of my hand, "I'll be fine after a drink. But thanks for pointing that out."

"Just trying to warn you, is all."

Even after she looks away from me, I keep my smile. Sometimes she says mean things without meaning to. But I have learned to dismiss them. She doesn't know that what she says is mean most of the time. Her honesty is brutal. I kind of love her for that.

 **Right, get straight to it and tell me what you would want to happen in this story. Return of some characters? Introduction of new ones? Deaths? Drama? Tell me and I'll make it happen! I mean, don't go too crazy, I can't kill everyone off.**

 **Review :)**


	2. The Bullshit

**Hello! Welcome back to the story! This one fills you in a little about what happened in the 6 months that they have lived together.**

We were going to return by 7 but the sunset was too beautiful. The orange glow around the city settled somewhere in the distance, emitting little sparks of pink here and there until the whole sky was submerged by it. Then the pink faded into dark blue. And then it was night.

We made our way back to the apartment at around 9pm, my hands full with a bag of treats Violet persuaded me to buy. I could have said no, but the desserts in this city are irresistible. And I want to try everything before we must head back to Chicago.

I tell Violet to wash her hands as soon as we enter because she spent at least an hour climbing some monkey bars in a park we stumbled upon, and her palms have turned to this dark gray color.

Eric appears in the doorway of our bedroom, chewing on the tip of his pen. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His reading glasses are black square frames around his eyes.

I place the bag by my feet and smile as he nods towards me.

"How was your meeting?"

"It was fine," he answers, "Productive."

I nod slowly, slipping off my shoes. There is an ache in my legs, probably from walking around all day. Thinking about going to bed with Eric while eating French treats almost makes me moan.

"You didn't call me," I say, sounding slightly hurt without meaning to. He clicks his pen repeatedly before shrugging.

"I trusted you were having fun," he smirks, "Which you were."

I blink and he is gone. I catch a glimpse of his back as he makes his way back to his work responsibilities. I roll my eyes before going into the bathroom where all the water is running. Violet turns the tap off and dries her hands. We bump into each other in the doorway.

"Go say hi to your dad," I tell her, switching positions to wash my hands as well. As the warm water spills over my hands, I see how pink my face is. Damn, I know I put sunscreen on. Clearly, it wasn't enough. The blue in my eyes stands out more against this new darker skin.

After drying my hands, I take care of the bag I left near the door. I walk to the coffee table in the middle of the living room, scattering the brown paper bags across the surface. They are all different sizes and some packages have spots of grease from the baked goods. The smell is warm and sweet. I smile to myself as I reach for one bag, but then I must stop myself.

I look up and see that Violet is watching me from the other side of the room, her hands folded, her eyebrows raised, "I get the first pick."

"Of course," I smirk, remembering that she is the priority in the family. I feel my stomach knot at the word 'family'. But that's the only word I can use to describe our little group, "Eric, come here!"

"I'm busy!" he yells back. Violet grins at me, sitting cross-legged on the floor and resting her arms on the table.

"He's working on a report or something," she confirms, tilting her chin up and scanning the small packages, "I guess we could… EAT THEM BY OURSELVES!" she yells the last part of the sentence, looking at her dad's bedroom door.

There is no response. We only hear vicious typing on a keyboard.

I roll my eyes and we both laugh, "Come on, pick one. I'll make us some drinks."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Violet is fast asleep in her bed. I slip into a light brown, satin night gown Eric got me for Valentine's Day. Back then, I considered it to be a joke. I thought I would never wear it. But I ended up wearing it almost every week. It's comfortable and makes me feel way more attractive than I am. It has lace on the collarbone and the rest of it is simple, flowing down to my thighs.

I twirl in the mirror before going over to the busy business man at his desk. It overlooks the Eiffel Tower, just like the living room. His laptop seems to be blocking most of the view though.

"Eric," I start, wrapping my arms from behind him. He tenses up momentarily before relaxing again. The typing at his laptop does not stop, "Are you sure the meeting went well?"

He catches one of my hands in his as I lower them onto his chest. He switches from typing to jotting down notes on his notepad next to the MacBook, "It was fine. I just have to take care of a few things."

I lean in, resting my nose on the top of his head. Still smells like him, "Can you take a break?"

"Not right now," I feel his lips on the top of my hand before he starts typing again.

This has happened once before, and he kept telling me that the distractions will get him fired.

"But you're the boss," I made a valid point. He went out of the room, scratching the back of his head. And then we had a massive argument.

It was fine. It was our first major argument but it was fine. We both felt bad afterward- me for distracting him from important work. Him, for yelling at me. We ordered pizza and binge watched The Walking Dead, taking notes on how no matter how bad things get, they can always get worse. Zombie apocalypse worse.

He didn't touch his laptop for a week after that argument.

"We leave after tomorrow," I say, kissing the back of his head, "Surely you want to spend this time with me before it's gone."

I feel him relax a bit more as he leans back in his seat. He takes off his glasses with one hand, rubbing his face, "I'll take you out tomorrow. We can spend the day together if you like."

I open my mouth to ask about Violet-

"I can get someone to watch her. I know people here," he sighs again, tipping his head back until our eyes meet, "And then we can go wherever you want."

"Really?"

"Yes."

I lean down to peck his lips, a small smile coming to my face, "It's late… can't we just chill now?"

He smirks at me and sits up. I take a step back, "Chill?"

"Yeah," I come closer, rubbing myself against his arm. He takes me by the hips and pulls me onto his lap, "I can do that thing you like."

His smile broadens, tired eyes going to my lips, "Chill?" he repeats, "Is that new slang kids are using these days?"

I roll my eyes, knowing he is trying to get a reaction out of me, "Kids? I'm not a kid."

"I'm older," he says, gently kissing the corner of my mouth.

I laugh, rolling my eyes again, "Are we having sex or not?"

A chuckle surfaces from somewhere deep within his chest and I know the answer by the way he burrows his face in my neck.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Back when Susan wrecked my car and my face, I was afraid she would come after me again. I trusted Eric. I trusted he would lock her up somewhere far away from where we are, but then I started to think about it. And I knew he would not send her to jail.

It started to dig at me, the paranoia. I thought she would be back again. Constantly, I was looking out of the living room window, down at the car park to see if I could spot a woman with an expensive fur coat… or a woman covered in mud, with a knife in her hand. That is how unpredictable she was. I did not know what to expect.

One night, I was rubbing cream all over my wound, the cream a doctor has recommended.

"Apply it daily, and your skin should heal and get some color back in time," he said, nodding and smiling.

I listened to him. I looked at myself in the mirror to see one side of my face snow white, and the other with a fresh tear, irritating my cheek and provoking a pink glow to appear. I wiped it away quickly, telling myself to man up. The cream would work; the wound would heal. I would be fine.

It was never about the wound though. I don't know why he was showing Susan mercy, and I didn't want to admit that I was jealous. I wasn't jealous. I just knew that they had history.

He came up behind me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing the back of my head, "Does it hurt?"

I shook my head, sniffing, "No."

He turned me around, leaning in to kiss me. When he pulled back, there was cream on his chin.

I laughed until the only thing that could shut me up was his mouth on my mouth.

"Where are you planning on taking me?" I ask, straddling him on the bed. Our apartment has gone quiet, signifying that Violet is indeed asleep. Although, if I know her well enough, she's probably under the covers with a flashlight, reading her comics.

Eric runs his hands up my legs, grabbing the bare skin on my hips. I shudder, allowing myself to release a moan. He smirks up at me, pupils dilating with lust.

"Wine tasting."

I laugh without thinking about it, "You're gonna make me drink your wine?"

He smirks, shaking his head, "It's not my wine. It's just wine. But if you find that funny, then I guess we'll have to settle for a walk in the park."

"I will love wherever you take me," I confirm, leaning down to kiss him. His response is enthusiastic: he flips us over, putting down enough of his weight on top of me to push all the air out of my lungs. I gasp, laughing when the sugar hits my brain. Eric juts his chin to the side, inspecting my reactions.

"This is why I don't indulge in French bakery," he comments, lifting himself up slightly when another laugh seems to be squeezed out of me.

"You don't indulge in anything."

He shakes his head, knowing there is no point in speaking as I have already opened my mouth.

"Try one. Come on. Ruin your diet," I giggle, poking his shoulder.

"I'm not on a diet," he clears his throat, looking out of the window. I almost roll my eyes at him.

"What's wrong with you? Stop being so grumpy."

He smiles at me then, laying down next to my body. His front presses against my back until I feel his erection nudging my backside. I shiver, allowing myself to be enveloped by his arms. His breath tickles the side of my neck. I stay quiet, although my legs twitch impatiently. His hand brushes some hair out of my face and due to him unable to see the features from his angle, he accidentally pokes me in the eye.

"Sorry, babe," he plants a kiss on my shoulder which manages to tip me over the edge all the time. I close my eyes, feeling a warm wetness pooling between my thighs. I push my hips back against his, smiling when he starts grinding back.

I hear the shuffling of his sweatpants before he releases a soft groan in my ear.

I look back at him to be greeted with a passionate kiss. He holds my head in place as his arm moves under my body and twists around my waist.

Eric slides into me without further hesitation. We had a chat about that. Most of the time I tell him to skip foreplay.

"No bullshit," I breathed on his face on the night Violet got to sleepover at her friend's house. He took me there and then, on the sofa in the living room. No bullshit. That is our motto.

I throw my head back when his lips attach to my neck as he starts to move inside me. I have been on the pill for about three months now. We have come to an agreement on birth control since condoms come to be more expensive.

His hand runs up my nightgown, groping whatever he finds first. I grind back against him, losing breath quite quickly. There is a honking car down on the streets which briefly masks my moan.

I feel Eric's smile on my neck as he holds me from arching my back too much.

It doesn't last too long, which is even better for me because I get to eat more croissants. Don't get me wrong, the sex is great, but French food is hard to beat.

 **Hope you liked the second chapter. As you have noticed, the rating changed to M for obvious reasons.**

 **Review :)**


	3. The Streets of Paris

Our fingers intertwine as we trod on the cobbled pathway under the moonlight. I laugh, holding onto Eric as a bike breezes past us, handle catching a part of my dress.

His arm goes around my waist, pulling me against him. His eyes are sober and serious, "Be careful, I don't want to lose you tonight."

"You won't," I stand on my tiptoes, pecking his lips. He has a toothpick between his teeth which he manages to spit out just in time and save my face from being pricked.

The streets of Paris are tranquil except for a few restless citizens who are either out to have a good time or working late. If I had to guess, I would say that Eric is somewhere between the two. We were supposed to go out for a meal (which we did), but 90% of the time he was on his phone.

I cover the screen of his iPhone as he pulls out the ringing device, "You're kidding, right?"

His eyes meet mine, softening slightly, "It might be important."

"I guarantee you, it's not important."

He declines the call and shoves it in his back pocket, looking guilty and pissed off at the same time.

"Eric," I place a finger on his jawline and make him look at me. His eyes skip down to my bright pink dress. Not my colour. Not my style. Eric's choice. It covers my collarbone and only comes off one shoulder, trailing down to my calves. I wore it because he insisted on it. But that meant I got to pick his outfit as well.

He looks buff in his white shirt, sleeves rolled up at the wrists. His black jacket is draped over his shoulder, being held by one hand. His pants are black too. But he is not wearing a tie, which makes him look more like a country man than a city boy.

"Turn it off. It won't kill you."

He clenches his jaw and looks off into the distance. I smile, the alcohol making me more lenient than ever.

It starts raining and he wraps his jacket around me, leading us to the nearest shelter which so happens to be a red canopy above a closed down café.

I poke one of my feet into the heavy rain, allowing Eric to hold me back so I don't accidentally stumble into the storm. The taste of warm garlic bread and tomato soup comes up as I hiccup, reminding me of the amazing dinner we had an hour ago.

He jerks me back sharply as I find myself falling towards the water. I didn't even have much to drink. So, I am not drunk. I can promise that… I think.

"Mad head," he mutters, pressing me against his chest. For a moment, I close my eyes and listen to the rain. It's heavy and relentless, conjuring claps of thunder miles away, "I can call for a cab- "

"No, it's fine," I say, "We can walk when it passes."

"What if it doesn't pass?"

"Then we'll sleep here tonight."

It is evident that he does not find me amusing. He probably wants to get back to our room and go on his laptop and ring back whoever it was that he declined earlier. I look up at him and see how he rubs his beard with one hand, eyes on the rain.

He makes us sway slightly, after a while finding the will to rest his chin on the top of my head.

"I can't believe we go back to Chicago tomorrow," I mutter against his chest.

"Hmm," is his reply. I roll my eyes, pushing myself away from him, but he brings me in again.

"Kiss me," I order.

"What?" his eyes are distant as he looks down at me. I place a hand on his cheek and smile as he leans in, pressing his lips against mine. His beard brushes past my jawline and tickles my collarbone as he nuzzles his face in my neck.

I smirk, wrapping my arms around him. The rain doesn't stop. It doesn't get worse either. It just carries on watering the dry summer city.

After ten minutes of standing under the canopy, we both start getting impatient, although neither one of us shows it.

A man runs past us, his jacket lifted to cover his head, his shoulders slouched as if it makes a difference. His trousers have changed colour from black to blacker.

I press my nose against Eric's chest, feeling the steady heart beneath his skin. His hands rub my arms when I close my eyes. A clap of thunder makes me jolt. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Can I call a cab now?"

SHSHSHSHSHSH

When we get back to the apartment, Violet jumps out of her bedroom, the hired baby sitter running after her.

I laugh when she bumps into me. After a second, I realise that her arms are around my waist, "Why are you not asleep?"

With a heavy accent, the French babysitter tries to explain to us how it was impossible to get her into bed. I believe her, empathetically nodding my head. Behind me, Eric narrows his eyes. She looks so panicked as if her whole career has been cancelled. But I know that she is probably anxious because the amount of money Eric offered her for the services can be refused.

He pays her, of course. And she leaves the apartment without another word as if we'll try to get the money back.

Did I look like that once?

"You're back early," Violet murmurs when I tuck her into bed. She tugs at a strand of wet hair on my head, furrowing her eyebrows.

"What are you talking about? It's almost midnight," I reply, straightening up. I realize that I am still wearing Eric's black blazer.

"Everyone knows that a good night means staying out till 6am."

"Well," I smirk, "It started raining."

She refuses to accept my answer and rolls her eyes, "You are so old."

I shut the door behind me when I leave and shrug the black blazer off my shoulders. In our bedroom, Eric is butt naked in front of the wardrobe, picking out dry clothes. My eyes glance down at his ass and the alcohol in my brain makes me giggle.

He glances over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his face, "Take off that dress," he orders, "The colours are leaking onto your skin."

It's true. I notice that a faint pink river is flowing from underneath my shoulder strap. When I lift the dress up, my thighs are a shy red. The material is soggy and _thwacks_ back onto my skin along with an unpleasant sound.

In case you are wondering why we are wet, Eric did not call a cab. I had a bright idea of running all the way back in the rain. He didn't dare to stop me. The rain has managed to sober me up though, and I now realize how bad my decision making is.

We lock the bathroom door and get into the shower. All I see is gold behind the steamed-up glass. It's difficult to make out any details in the interior once you're in a sauna.

I look down at our feet and see the pink of my dress disappear into the drain. Eric's clothes don't lose colour like that. I huff at myself. Prada my ass.

He reaches behind me and grabs a shower gel before squirting it into his hands and washing all the rain and the pink colour off me. I place my hands on his shoulders, trying not to laugh as his fingers trace all the sensitive spots on my body. He sees my smirk and grows one of his own.

 **Now that we've settled into the story, the fun can really begin. Beware of drama, coming soon.**

 **Review :)**


	4. The Secretary

**Let the drama commence...**

We enter the apartment the next day in the afternoon. The sun has started to set, leaving a bright pink glow all over the sky. The skin on my face burns from all the sun I've been getting in Paris. That'll teach me not to forget sunscreen next time.

I drop my bag and run my hands across my shoulders, feeling my baked skin. For some reason, I did not get sun burn, but it hurts like hell nevertheless.

Violet brushes past me with a groan, kicking off her shoes and dragging herself into the living room. The plane journey has taken all the energy out of us. Except for Eric of course.

He picks up the bag I dropped and swings it over his shoulder, carrying that and the two suitcases he has further into the apartment. Some paper work he was doing on our flight is jammed between his teeth and a pen is balanced behind his ear. I take the papers out of his mouth as we go into the bedroom and he mutters a 'thank you'.

I take a second to flick through them but unfortunately I don't understand his language so I rest the papers on his desk. The next time I look at him, he is unpacking my underwear.

"I can do that," I step in. He smirks and straightens up, flexing his neck from side to side.

"What are we having for dinner?" he asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I grin, opening my mouth to answer, but Violet cuts me off.

"Daddy, can you make spaghetti?" her eyes land on Eric's hands on my waist. Awkwardly, he let's go.

"You want me to cook?" he asks, holding out his arms which makes the girl leave the doorframe and walk into him. He picks her up. "Why don't we order something? I'm exhausted."

I shut the nearest suitcase, flopping down onto the bed. Violet gives me a weird look over Eric's shoulder. I close my eyes. I can't remember the last time I was this tired. I'm sure we are all tired.

I close my eyes and listen to our dinner plans being negotiated. Whichever decision they come to, I'll support it. I could eat anything.

"Why don't we order spaghetti from that restaurant?" Eric suggests, kissing Violet's forehead. And so, we do.

We manage to eat everything that came in the luxurious paper bag. I am so tired that I decide not to start an argument about how expensive this meal must have been. It's quite pricey ordering from restaurants, and even more pricey if the restaurant does not do take outs and Eric must tip them a further hundred dollars to convince them.

We eat the spaghetti in the kitchen and go straight to bed. Violet falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. I stay up for a while, unpacking and sorting out the countless shit I bought myself from excitement of being in Paris. Eric sits at his desk, typing something on his laptop and taking five-second breaks to rub his eyes.

"Go to bed," I command, receiving a curious look, "It can wait. Just get some sleep."

Strangely, he shuts down his laptop and gets into bed. He listened to me. I raise my eyebrows, not knowing how to react.

"You too," he mutters, hiding his face in a pillow. I nod, hide the suitcases in a cupboard and crawl into bed, shuddering when his warm hands press into my back.

"Are you working tomorrow?" Stupid question. He nods. "Does that mean- "

"Take the day off," he says, "Just take Violet to school," his lips plant a kiss on my forehead, "I don't need a secretary tomorrow, I'm in and out of meetings anyway."

He looks like it kills him to say that. I don't blame him; I wouldn't want to go to meetings jetlagged.

"Okay," I nod, rubbing my nose against his. He falls asleep quite quickly and I'm left with his heavy breathing on my face.

Morning comes soon. Not my morning. Eric's morning. I hear shuffling and clattering of his leather belt while it is still dark. I turn and realize that the whole room is flooding with red light from the early sunset. Crimson. I've never seen it like this before- the skies must be clear.

Through the blood darkness, I make out his figure, already suited and ready to go. Lazily, I reach out my hand and he meets it with his fingers, tickling my palm, "Shh, go to sleep."

I do.

A few hours later I take Violet to school and return home for a nap. The gentle melody of someone ringing the doorbell downstairs wakes me up. I race down the hall and press a button on the device on the wall, "Who is it?"

"It's me! You gonna tell me about Paris or what?"

I smirk and buzz Christina in. It takes her a couple of seconds to reach the apartment, or maybe that's just what it feels like. I rub the sleep out of my eyes after she nearly knocks me over with her hug.

I see a bottle of wine in her hand and laugh, "Are you crazy? It's not even lunch!"

"So?!" her smile makes me laugh even more. She points to the bottle and I notice Eric's company logo on it, "Look, I made the effort to order it all the way from Paris. Thought we would try it together."

"I've already tried it," I confess, "More than twice."

We both have a glass in the kitchen, and when it hits my brain, I decide to put the bottle away. She is a bad influence.

"Really? It was only released two days ago- "

"And guess who was one of the first to taste it." She tilts her head to the side and tightens her smile.

"Eric needs to give me a discount. His wine costs almost as much as a good quality dildo."

I describe my time in the city and she listens with her chin in the palm of her hand. Then I jump up and hurry to bring her the souvenir I got: a baby pink bath robe with swirls and an Eiffel tower on the back. She gasps and asks me how much it was. I stay quiet.

"I'm so glad one of us is loaded," she states, rubbing her cheek against the fluffy material, "Do you remember when we had to fight over who gets to shower first because the water will always get cold after fifteen minutes?"

It seems like that was years away. Since I have met Eric, everything seemed to change. I wonder if I'd still be living with her if I hadn't applied for that nanny job.

Christina fixes her pink bra strap under the navy-blue vest and leans back in her seat, her eyes scanning the skyline out of the kitchen window.

"Where is Violet?" her eyes dart around the room as if the girl might pop out at any moment.

"At school," I giggle, "It's a weekday."

"Ah," her body rocks backwards and forwards impatiently, "Is she calling you 'mum' yet?"

"Stop," I roll my eyes, "Don't be ridiculous."

Her smile drops, "What, you think she never will?"

I shake my head, "It doesn't matter. It'd be weird to be called 'mum'."

"Well," her smirk turns mischievous as she throws a cashew nut into her mouth, "Maybe it won't be Violet who would call you that first."

An hour later, Christina says that she needs to run to work. She got promoted last week and she does not want to disappoint her boss by being late on her "first big day". I give her the bottle back considering we have dozens in the cupboard behind the living room door. And then I decide to call Eric since I haven't talked to him properly today. He told me he would be in meetings. And this is his lunch hour. So maybe a miracle will happen and he would pick up his phone this once.

I jump onto the kitchen counter as I listen to the dial tone. He picks up on the third _'beep'_.

"What?" he asks.

I raise my eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the attitude in his voice, "Um... hi, it's me."

"Oh... hey," he sighs, sounding a little strained, "I can't talk right now, babe. About to walk into a meeting."

I open my mouth to reply when I hear a shrill female voice on the other line, "Would you like some coffee before you go, Mr Coulter?"

I bite my cheek, "Who is that?"

The sound of a soft-shutting drawer and papers being rustled. He is probably squeezing his phone between his cheek and shoulder, "It's Nikki. _No, thank you._ "

"Who the fuck is Nikki?" I rack my brain for that name. Never heard of her. I'm sure she doesn't even work with us.

Eric stays silent for at least two minutes, which makes me extremely irritable. He knows how impatient I am.

"She volunteered to be my secretary today- "

"You said you didn't need me at work- "

"I _don't,_ " he almost growls, "I'm hanging up, Tris. You'll make me late."

I hang up for him. Fucking Nikki.

I probably should not even be this angry. I don't know _why_ I am angry. So, he got a new secretary for the day… Maybe he just wants me to take a break. Or maybe that bitch needs a good discipline. Or maybe he does.

I know I am over reacting when I put on my coat and storm out of the apartment. Whoever this Nikki is, she is not replacing me. Not today. Not ever.

 **I have a week left of university and then I can write until my fingers bleed. Who's excited?**

 **Review and tell me what you thought of this chapter :)**


	5. The Walking Dead

**I have encountered a problem with Fanfiction. As I upload a new chapter, I do not get an email saying that it is up, and my concern is that you don't either. Can somebody confirm this?**

 **If the problem is real, please understand that I try to upload every Thursday, so if you don't get a notification, be sure to check on the website.**

 **Hopefully, this issue gets resolved.**

Heads turn as I storm up the stairs to Eric's office. Everybody knows me here now. They see Eric with me, and those who don't jump to conclusions- ask. Eric tells them. Or I do. Many people approach me instead, and it's not hard to see why.

I am out of breath when I reach Eric's floor, which tells me I won't be as brutal with my confrontation. If I took the elevator, I would be all over the place. At least leaping up the stairs burnt some of my energy and anger.

Nikki sits at her… I mean _my_ desk, next to Eric's office. All that is separating them is a door and a thin glass window next to it. I don't know why I'm thinking the way I am… I almost turn back, but when I see her smug face, it all comes back to me.

"Miss Prior, Mr Coulter just returned from his meeting- "

"Yes, I know," I snap, watching her jump up from her seat and smile nervously. Her short, red hair sticks up from either side of her head, creating a soft sort of triangle around her. I've seen her around before. But she never worked on our floor.

Her green eyes look down when she realizes I am glaring, "He's in his office," she confirms, sitting back down on her chair and tugging down her perfectly fitted blouse.

I let myself in, slamming the door behind me. Eric furrows his eyebrows from across the room but doesn't look surprised, as if he knew I would come. He is wearing his favourite black suit. I notice him fixing his cufflinks. His eyes leave mine.

"I'm out of here in five minutes. I'm talking to the head of- "

"Why is she replacing me?"

"What?"

"Why is she," I point to the door, allowing my finger to make quick circles, "replacing me?" He frowns, stroking his tie. No reply. I take a deep breath before talking, "You said you didn't need a secretary today. I could have come but apparently, you found- "

"Why are you here?" he cuts me off, grabbing something off his desk and bending his shirt collar until he is satisfied with its angle.

"Obviously, I came to- "

"Check?" he asks, eyes hardening. I hold my breath, suddenly feeling guilty for nodding. Eric releases a huff of air and shuts down his laptop, taking out the USB and slipping it into his trouser pocket, "Thanks for the trust."

"Wait," I laugh mockingly, "Now I'm the bad guy?"

"Tris," he barks, making all the oxygen in the room turn into a solid block that surrounds our bodies, "Go home. I don't have time for your petty assumptions."

I'm assuming by 'petty assumptions' he means 'false accusations'. I don't know. The latter sounds less personal. It would have been a softer reply.

I shake my head, feeling stupid for wanting to yell at him some more. And then I decide that I must look stupid for still being in the room… with the way he is staring at me and all.

I walk out before I can say anything else. Nikki jumps up to send me a formal goodbye but I ignore her, running down the stairs to the ground floor.

I get stopped by Jake, a new person in my life. He works with Eric and he is built like Eric. The only thing he doesn't have in common with him is facial hair and tattoos.

"Tris," he smiles, showing a dimple near his mouth. I notice that he is too, wearing a suit, "What's the rush? Did the big boss send you home early?"

I smile softly and shake my head, still feeling the whiplash from the encounter with my boyfriend, "No, I'm not working today."

I glance towards the direction of the elevators, paranoid that Eric might appear and start an argument with me over my paranoid state. He wouldn't cheat on me. But what girl wouldn't overreact in the matter? …Right?

"Oh, lucky you," he chuckles, hitting my shoulder with a clipboard, "We're about to find out how the British have liked our training regime," I zone out for a second, not caring what he is babbling on about, "But you go home, yeah. You look tired. Get some rest while you can."

"What does that mean?"

Jake's brown eyes smile at me, "See you later, Tris."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

"What the fuuuuuuuuuuuck?!" Violet's voice screams through the apartment. I almost spill my coffee as I scramble up to my feet and race into the living room.

My eyes dart around the room until I find her. They settle on her tiny body, curled up on the sofa. Her hair covers her face, and she switches between rocking and jolting up and down.

"What's the matter?!" I panic, but seeing how she is unharmed my heart starts to slow down into its steady beat again.

Violet lifts her head, eyes reflecting pure rage and misery, "Abraham is dead!"

I pause, "Who is Abraham? Abraham Lincoln?"

She scrunches up her face in disgust, "What? Not Abraham fucking Lincoln, what's wrong with you?!"

I open my mouth to scold her but she cuts me off, "Abraham! From the Walking Dead!"

She points at the TV angrily and I see the Netflix menu and a big, fat thumbs down next to the Walking Dead icon.

"I don't know who that is," I say, "can you please calm down? It's just a movie."

"It's a _TV show_ ," she corrects, folding her arms.

"Regardless. You are not allowed to watch it. It's for adults- "

"Whatever," she scoffs.

"I am not kidding. If I see you watching it again, you're grounded," she gasps over-dramatically and straightens her back. That is the point when the front door slams. I gulp, not even close to ready to interact with Eric. I glance at the clock on the wall. 6pm. He is early.

"Daddy, tell Tris that I can watch the Walking Dead!" she storms past me and towards the corridor. I hear them collide and I hear him pick her up and place a big kiss at the top of her head. She squeals suddenly. He laughs.

"Look what I got you," I hear him say.

"Is that for me as well?" she asks.

There's a brief pause, "No that's for Tris," he replies quietly.

I go into the bathroom to wash off the make-up of today and funnily enough, Eric winds up behind me. I see his body in the mirror and decide to ignore it. Then, he touches me and I am obliged to turn around.

He holds his breath and for a moment I am afraid that I scared him without any make-up, "I'm sorry about earlier."

I look down, but he grabs my chin and tilts my head upwards, "Oh?"

"I needed some help but I did not want to force you to come in," he breathes, "Okay?"

So, it was that simple? Great, now I feel stupid. I try not to show it on my face.

"I got you this," his mouth twitches upwards and I find the courage to look into his eyes. He presses a velvet, square box into my hand, his breath close to my cheek.

Slowly, I pull the top backwards to reveal a simple circle with what looks like a diamond (of course it's a diamond) attached to a thin, golden chain. I run my finger over the stone, realizing that it is a necklace.

And then I realize that he just gave me an item of jewellery worth over a thousand dollars in our bathroom.

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	6. The Long Night

**This chapter is more of a filler, but the information will be relevant later in the story.**

 **Enjoy :)**

"I was thinking of getting a tattoo," I say quietly. Eric's chest rises behind me, and his arms wrap around my sweaty body. I lean back against him, allowing his lips to plant kisses on my neck.

"Where?" I smirk, knowing that he would not protest.

"Where would you suggest?"

Our legs curl over one another beneath the covers in the dark. I watch the stars shimmering through the window in the night sky. If anything is better than make-up sex, it is the conversation that happens afterwards.

His breath is hot on my bare shoulder, "Here." His fingers graze the left side of my collarbone, "Something trailing along here."

"Oh," I smile, inspiration hitting my brain. There is a variety of tattoos to choose from then. For some reason, I think of birds. I tilt my head to the side, his lips meeting mine before I have a chance to say anything.

"Ready for round two?" he whispers. I smile against his lips, letting him crawl on top of me.

"I'm tired," I moan, shutting my eyes as he gets busy kneading my breasts. There is a low growl at the back of his throat.

"Man up," he says.

I giggle when his fingers graze my hips. He registers my body twitching and does it again, this time on purpose, "Don't start."

His lips curl up into a smile before he kisses me again. I wrap my legs around him, his hard cock poking at my entrance. I've learned to expect a second love-making session. It is just how it goes with us.

I arch my back as he slides in, breathing on my face. The room is hushed and the only thing I can hear is our heartbeats and the laboured breathing. Eric hides his face in my neck, smile pressing against my skin.

After it is all over, we both seem to sink into the mattress. My eyelids droop, blocking the view of the bedroom ceiling. I feel Eric nuzzling my shoulder, his body getting heavier.

He whispers, "I'm off work tomorrow."

"Hmm?" I open my eyes, not certain why he would say that.

"We could do something," his lips meet mine. I blink away the sleep and stare at him.

"You're off work?"

He nods.

"Why?" this causes him to grin, "I mean… you always work. Why would you- "

"Let's call this a promotion," he answers, snaking his arms around me, "The meetings went well today. I'm expected to earn more soon," more? He's practically a millionaire, "And my schedule became flexible."

I am about to ask about my job as a secretary, but then I remember what I wanted to tell him.

"Eric," I begin.

"We should go on holiday," he proposes.

"Yeah, but listen," I smirk, "I don't want to work for you… it's weird."

His eyebrows furrow momentarily, but he does not seem hurt, "Bit random. Why would you say that?"

Unsure whether it is sleep or something else that has made me so brazen, I plough on, "It's not random… I just want to have a job that gives me my own identity. I don't want to work for you forever," his face does not change so I add, "No offence."

He smiles and lays his head on the pillow, "Let's talk about this tomorrow, okay? I'm far too tired."

In the morning, he is up before the sun. I almost throw a pillow at him. It's not like he must go to work…

When I hear a humming treadmill in the other room, I scramble out of bed, pull on my dressing gown and follow the sound. The light of the room blinds me as I enter, so I bring both hands up to my eyes.

His heavy thudding steps slow down until I know that his feet have hit the ground. I try to look at him through the gap in my fingers, only making out a buff figure.

"Can you please go back to bed?" I whisper-yell, backing up to the doorframe.

Eric grabs my hips and pulls until we are both back in the bedroom. I look up at him, noticing how sweat glistens on his forehead and arms. Most of his chest is exposed as he is wearing a loose vest. I yawn, barely making out what he is saying.

"What?"

"I'll be done in a few reps," he repeats, kissing my forehead.

I roll my eyes, "Can't you take a break and come back to bed? You're not going to get fat if you miss one day of exercise."

His head shakes in the dark. I know that he is smiling, "Go back to bed," he orders, "I'll be done in a few reps."

The rest of the night/ morning is a bit of a blur, so I don't remember what happened when I wake up at 6:50am. I look over to my right and see that Eric is next to me- fast asleep. That's a good sign. He could have been making breakfast by now, but I guess I got my way this time.

I smile and lean into him, sighing when his arm squeezes around me, "Morning," he murmurs in his husky morning voice. I press my face against his chest and inhale. Aftershave.

"Good morning," I reply, wincing at how hoarse my voice sounds. His deep chuckle bounces through me as he pulls me closer. I clear my throat, "Are you still staying home today?"

It's a good idea to double check. He is so indecisive.

"Yeah," he slurs, one hand going to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Can you take me somewhere?" I ask, grinning. He grins back and leans into peck my lips.

"Yes," his eyes are more and more awake by the second, "Where did you have in mind?"

I shrug because I honestly have no idea, "We can pick Violet up after school and go out for dinner."

"Really? Is that the plan?"

I feel his hands running up and down my back, "Do you disagree?"

"No," there is amusement in his smirk, "I like it when you take charge."

"Do you?" I giggle, twitching when he starts tickling me, "Stop it!"

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	7. The Tattoo

**Welcome back to another chapter of the story :)**

"So why do you not want to work for me anymore?" the question he brings up is inevitable and unexpected at the same time. The humid air blows past us, shoving most of my hair onto my face. I have to tie it into a bun, but the loose locks near my temples still block my vision, which results in me twitching my head from time to time.

Eric stares at me as he waits for the answer. I giggle nervously, resting my legs on his.

We decided to visit the park, and as Chicago's kids are at school, it is almost deserted. There are a few dog walkers around though. The bench we are sitting on is entirely made from wood, saving us the trouble of getting fried on one of the tacky metal benches the park is littered with.

"You know why," I say.

His eyes twinkle with mock surprise, "Is it the money?"

I give him a 'be serious' look, "That makes no sense. You earn that money and you give it to me- "

" _You_ earn that money," he pokes my chest.

"But I don't. There is no profit. It's all taken from your company. If I was working for somebody else, we would be making a profit."

He shows his teeth as he smiles, "Look at you. Giving me a lecture about wages."

"Eric!" I drop the hint of a smile I had on my face, "Seriously, I don't want to work for you. It's awkward. Don't you think?"

"No," he says. I roll my eyes. There is no changing his opinion, but it doesn't mean I cannot make my own choices.

I look away and huff, receiving a chuckle from Eric, "Do you even know what you want to do?"

I sigh and turn back to face him, feeling his supportive hand on my back, "No…"

He furrows his eyebrows as if thinking of an answer- not judging me.

"Do you like being a secretary?" I stay silent for a long time which provokes us both to smile, "Would you want to do anything similar?"

"I don't know," I say, realizing how dumb I must sound. He is not frustrated though. I watch him search for answers at the back of his head. I have never thought about it before. What do I actually want to do? Which career path should I take? All I know is that I do not want to continue working for him. I want a little independence.

"Why don't you become a personal trainer?" he smirks. I laugh, shaking my head.

"Do I look like a personal trainer to you?! And I thought I made it clear. I do not want to work for you."

"I could train you," he looks up and down my body on his lap, "And you don't have to work for me. Go into a different section of the building. I'm not the only boss there."

I watch him slowly starting to make sense.

"I could not be a personal trainer," I say quietly. Eric's smile widens.

"Shall I give you a starter pack?" The wind blows into his face, making him squint, "All you need is a few tattoos… some muscles," he playfully squeezes my arm and I shriek, "And a beard. Anything is possible."

I sigh, closing my eyes and tilting my head towards the sun, "You're not helping."

His lips start to stick to the skin around my neck and I laugh quietly.

"Why don't we go and get your tattoo?" he blurts out. I look at him.

"What, now?"

"Well, yeah. When else?"

I laugh again, not knowing whether he is being serious or not. He maintains his poker face.

"I don't… I don't even know what to get. What if it hurts?"

Eric flashes his smile, pulling me closer, "It will hurt. But I know a guy. Let's go."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Protesting for the whole journey to the tattoo parlour, I finally walk in and shut up once I see men covered head to toe with ink. One of them walks straight past us, fiddling with something on a metallic tray. He looks like a stereotypical tattoo artist: stretcher in one ear, thin glasses, long grey beard, and endless amounts of naked women on his arms. Not the perfect guy for my first tattoo. Right?

Eric nudges me from behind, forcing me to walk forward. I wince, spinning around.

"I changed my mind," I say. He gives me a cold look.

"Take a seat and wait," he orders. Sighing, I walk over to the waiting area, which consists of three small red couches. My heart starts racing when one artist comes up to me, raising his eyebrows.

"Can I help you?"

To my relief, Eric answers for me, "John. Hey."

The tattoo artist finds his smile and shares the most enthusiastic man hug with Eric. I sink into the couch, looking down at my lap. I want a tattoo. But I wasn't expecting to scar my skin this soon. I mean, this is forever. Forever is a strong word.

The two men talk standing up as I inhale the stuffy air of the facility. For some reason, it's very dark here. And that puts me on edge.

Eric glances back at me and nods, "Tris, this is John."

I look up at John to see him smiling at me. It looks odd on his face, mainly because it is pierced EVERYWHERE.

"He'll do your tattoo," Eric gives me his hand and I take it, pulling myself up to my feet.

I end up on a reclining chair at the back of the studio, and no matter how much John talks to me, I can't seem to be processing any of it. At one point, he clicks his fingers in front of my face, which I find a bit rude. Eric grabs a seat next to me and gives me a satisfied smile, "Don't make me hold your hand."

I roll my eyes, "Let's get this over with."

"Be brave."

"Shut up."

John shows me a bunch of designs that could be printed onto my collarbone but I don't lie any of them. After about ten minutes of talking, I decided to go with birds.

"And how do you want them?"

"Surprise me."

I yelp when the needle meets my skin, but Eric is there to hold my shoulder, "Don't move," he whispers.

I endure a minute of pain, but it somehow starts to fade away as that area of skin adapts to it. I take a deep breath and tilt my head backwards, closing my eyes. It's better not to think about it. So, I don't. Instead, I start thinking of the food I could eat in the evening.

Halfway through the session, I sense Eric walking away. He starts chatting to the people he obviously knows and afterwards, I hear the buzzing of a tattoo gun. The pain brings me back to reality so I shut my eyes tighter, waiting for it to be over.

Once it is, the artist applies some sort of cream and lets me stand up. I look down at my collarbone as much as I can and see a patch of black.

"It's better to stand in front of the mirror," John suggests. I follow his instructions and smile at myself once I see it. It's three birds, each one a different shape, trailing along my collarbone. I know what they mean and I know who they stand for. Our little family.

"Tris," Eric smirks behind me. I turn around and squeal in excitement, showing him the artwork. He looks down at his wrist and I follow his gaze, grabbing his arm and turning it over. Within his geometric patterns is a small, solid letter 'T'. You wouldn't notice it if it wasn't separated from the other patterns on his skin.

 **Review and tell me what you think! Obviously tattoos are like a symbol in this universe, I could not exclude them :)**


	8. The Dinner

**This chapter feels like a filler as well, which is why it's shorter and was posted before Friday. There'll be another chapter soon!**

"Is that a tattoo?!" Violet yanks at my top, almost revealing the breasts beneath it. I hold onto the collar and laugh.

"Yes, calm down!"

Eric smirks from the driver's seat, making a U-turn on the cul-de-sac near Violet's school.

"Are you getting another one? What does it say? Are those birds? Can I have one as well?"

"Violet, when we get out of the car, I'll show you," I say, putting on my seatbelt and looking ahead at the road. The girl does the same behind me, and I feel her staring out of the window of the car.

"Where are we going?" she says after a while, "Home is that way."

I imagine her pointing behind her shoulder as she says this. Eric glances at her through the mirror and steps on the gas, "We're going out for dinner."

"Oh… where?" the excitement in her voice is evident, even if she tries to conceal it. Eric and I exchange humorous looks.

"There's this forest themed bar I think," Violet leans in to listen, "We'll have dinner there and maybe go for a walk afterwards?"

"How was school?" Eric pipes in, using one muscular arm to stir the wheel while the other one focuses on changing the gears.

"It was fine," there is paper rustling near my shoulder, and I take it to have a read, "School trip."

I rest the letter on my lap and scan through it. My eyes widen slightly, "For three days?"

Eric glances at it too, clearly interested.

"And it's $300 dollars! To Ohio!"

"Oh, please, everyone is going!" she begs, grabbing the back of my seat, "we're supposed to meet Abby Lee Miller from Dance Moms! And Cathy."

I have another scan through the letter and it's then that I realize the trip is aimed at the dance group Violet is in, and which she attends every Friday.

"Why three days?" Eric asks.

"We're going to a dance competition… seeing everyone perform," she smiles, "It's supposed to inspire us to become these great dancers."

"And the deposit?" he asks. I look at him in disbelief.

"Wait, we haven't talked about it yet."

The pair of them create a tense silence in the cramped space, and I begin to feel like a party pooper.

"I mean, it's far away… in Ohio. And for three days?"

Eric makes a sharp turn and we stop at the traffic lights. He releases a big sigh before turning to face her, "You're allowed to go."

"Yes!"

"But you have to promise to behave."

"I will! I promise."

I furrow my eyebrows, shoving the letter into the glove compartment. I'm guessing I get no say in anything.

There is a buzz coming from Violet, creating a vibrant atmosphere all around. I decide not to say anything, in case I upset her somehow or make myself look like a complete grumpy bitch.

We arrive at a restaurant/bar shortly. I take Violet by the hand to find a table while Eric stays behind to look for a parking spot. She looks up at me, pointing to a secluded area near the window, "There."

"Oh, honey, I think that's reserved."

"Daddy will take care of it," she reassures me. I smirk and follow her to the table that looks like a massive tree stump. We sit opposite each other, receiving a concerned look from the nearest waiter. Soon enough, Eric shows up and slips him a few bills before joining us. He sits next to Violet.

They talk about school and the upcoming trip as I flip through the menu, deciding what to get. Most of the menu consists of venison, vegetables and some sort of organic drinks. I go with venison. Eric does too. And Violet chooses a mushroom dish from the kid's menu. We are both surprised.

"My teacher says mushrooms will make me smarter."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

"Got a photoshoot," Eric says casually, dropping a letter onto the bed. I look up at him and away from my laptop, in slight shock. He grins at my reaction, "What?" his hand goes behind his head to idly itch a patch of hair, "It's an annual thing. I was wondering if you wanted to come."

"When is it?" I shut my laptop, sitting on both legs.

"Next week," he leans down to peck my lips, "With _Business Magazine_. They'll be taking an interview as well."

My jaw almost hits the floor, "What the fuck?"

Eric raises an eyebrow.

"That's like a proper magazine. That you can buy and look at."

"You're insulting me," he smirks, taking the laptop off the bed and placing it onto his desk.

"No, I'm just…" I think back, trying to remember whether I've ever seen his face in other magazines, "You'll be famous."

He looks unfussed as he sighs, "Are you coming or not?"

"Yes!"

"Nobody reads the _Business Magazine_ anyway- "

"But everyone knows about it," a wild idea hits me, "Can I invite Christina?"

He furrows his eyebrows, lifting a part of his shirt to itch his abs, "Why?"

"I think she'll be so excited," I place my hands into the praying position, "Please, please, please…"

He is hesitant at first, but my puppy eyes win him over.

"Oh, my God, I'll call her now," I try to run out of the room, but Eric scoops me up with one arm.

"Hey, calm down. It's just a photoshoot," he clarifies as if that will somehow downgrade my enthusiasm, "Most of them are boring."

"Oh, don't be such a downer," I poke his hip and jump out of the room, going straight for the phone.

 **Review and tell me what you think!**


	9. The Photoshoot

**I must say, this first scene was inspired by the scene in Fifty Shades of Grey. So if it seems familiar, that is why.**

 **Enjoy!**

There is a buzz in the atmosphere, but it all seems to be originating from Christina.

We have rented a spacious studio for the one-hour photo shoot. With only 10 minutes in, Christina has already started to jump up and down in her seat. I rest my chin in the palm of my hand, watching Eric fixing his cufflinks in front of a grey backdrop. There is a crease between his eyebrows, and he is clearly thinking about something.

There is a massive chandelier above us, dangling hundreds of perfectly cut little glass shards which send speckles of light in every direction. It ties in with the wallpaper which has a transparent feel to it, but there is a floral touch on top, making this whole place feel ancient. The arches around each door would agree.

"This is great," Christina squeals, brushing her shiny hair back with both hands, "It's like he is famous. And we get a look behind the scenes!"

"Shh," I laugh, rolling my eyes, "Eric would disagree."

"He would disagree about most things."

I jump out of my seat when two big hands grasp my shoulders. My knee goes up and almost knocks down the table we are sat at. Both Eric and the photographer look at me.

I look over my shoulder to see Jake trying to hold back his laughter, "Sorry!" I wave at Eric.

"I didn't think you would react like that," Jake speaks quietly into my ear before turning to Christina. Her smile seems to grow on her face, "Have we met?"

I concentrate on getting my heart rate back to its normal pace as Jake steps away from me and closer to where Christina is sat. He ends up standing in the middle of us. When expectant silence stretches on, I realize that I am supposed to introduce them.

"Uh... this is Jake," I tell Christina, who seems to be on another planet, "Eric's colleague."

I notice that he is wearing a light grey suit, which goes very well with his tanned skin. Eric is wearing a black suit, as he is unable to get any other colours due to his obnoxious nature. I told him a thousand times-

"Wow… you're a millionaire as well?" Christina reaches out to him. He takes her hand and kisses it, which surprises the both of us.

"Hardly," he murmurs. Christina bursts out laughing.

I excuse myself and go to stand two steps away from the photographer, positive that the pair did not even notice my absence. Eric glances at me before resuming his serious pose.

"How about we try one with a smile?" the photographer suggests. Eric glares at him and continues staring into the distance. I put a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from showing my smirk. I expected nothing less.

Minutes later, I start jumping around behind the photographer, making faces and showing Eric how to pose, as you would do with a small child. He looks confused at first but then decides to humour me.

He points at me, the gesture inevitably causing the photographer to look over his shoulder. Immediately, I straighten up and look away.

"Why don't you join him?" he asks. I look at the man with the camera, pretending to be surprised.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" In the corner of my eye, Eric smiles.

The photographer gives me a small grin and gestures to Eric, "Come on, might as well."

I wrap my arms around myself and raise my eyebrows at Eric, who simply looks down at the spot next to him. Rolling my eyes, I walk over, allowing him to grab my arm and pull me close.

"Easy," I hiss. He chuckles into my ear, using my hair as a shield from paparazzi.

All eyes in the room turn to me, making me feel self-conscious. Christina gives me a 'thumbs up' from the table, clearly perplexed by my intentions. Those are not my intentions though. They are somebody else's.

The camera flash almost blinds me. I bring a hand up to my face, "Wait, I wasn't ready."

Eric chuckles again, arm snaking around my waist. He holds my body so that most of my front is pressed against his. I feel his hand squeezing my lower back and try to figure out how in the hell this is a good pose for a photograph. But then I remember that the stretchy top I am wearing has crosses going down my back, exposing most of the skin there. I bring one hand to my mouth, smirking. Then the bright flash goes off.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Next week, I decided to help at the office. After taking Violet to school, Eric and I make our way into the reception on the ground floor. The sun has tucked itself away, bringing heavy rainclouds above Chicago. Today I wear my Autumn jacket. Eric is in a suit.

He picks up some forms from the ladies at reception and then we continue walking through the lobby. We are yards away from the elevator when I stop dead in my tracks at the sight of fresh magazines displayed on a big rack near a waiting area.

"Holy fuck," I breathe. Eric looks up from his papers and follows my shaky steps.

The cover for the _Business Magazine_ was supposed to be Eric. So why the fuck do I see my face?

I pick up one of the magazines, which is cold and glossy to touch. I look closer at the cover which shows a suited-up Eric holding me close, his face inches away from mine. I am looking down at his chest, smirking to myself with a finger on my mouth. The focus of the photograph was my back. I see it now. It's beautifully shot, with a black and white filter over it.

I think my heart stops for a second.

Eric leans over my shoulder and hums a short tune, "You look nice."

I widen my eyes and turn to him, "What the-… why am I on this?!"

He furrows his eyebrows and passes a mint pebble from one side of his mouth to the other, "What, you don't like it?"

"Well, no I do, but- "

"Well then," he shrugs and walks off towards the elevator. Just like that, the conversation is finished.

I tuck the magazine under one arm and follow him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Two hours in sitting at the office, I bring it up again. Eric laughs this time, leaning back in his leather chair. This new promotion of his has lifted a heavy weight off his shoulders. He looks more relaxed, and it is easier to get him to smile.

He gets up and walks over to the middle of the room, shrugging off his expensive jacket, "You don't like being the centre of attention, is that it?"

I smirk, shifting all my weight onto one arm on the sofa, "It's just a bit weird… being in a magazine," I tilt my head.

Eric rolls up his sleeves, "Nobody reads it. Like I said."

I roll my eyes, "Thanks."

He gestures for me to join him. I get up and walk to the middle of the room. Unexpectedly, he spins me around, slamming my back against his front. I gasp and then laugh.

"You look beautiful on the cover," he says, "Don't act silly about it."

I smile as we intertwine our fingers, and I get to see the small black 'T' on his bulky wrist.

His breathing starts to get hotter and hotter as he leans in to kiss my neck, "I'd like to fuck you on that table."

My face flushes as wetness starts pooling between my legs. He wraps our arms around my body, nearly squeezing the life out of me. I laugh again, leaning my head back.

"And what if someone comes in?" I challenge.

His teeth clamp down on my earlobe, making me shiver, "That's always a possibility, isn't it?"

"Just lock the door," I turn in his arms, leaning up to kiss him. He responds enthusiastically, closing the gap between us. Between the kisses, he manages to mumble something. I just don't understand what it is.

Without warning, he pushes me onto the desk, causing a pen holder to clatter down onto the floor along with its contents. I am shoved forward, face first. I try to giggle to relieve the tension but he doesn't seem to like that.

His hand comes down onto my ass with a loud _thwack_.

I moan, clutching the edges of the desk.

 **Review and tell me what you think!**


	10. The Bitch is Back

**Welcome back! This is chapter 10 and I hope you like it...**

"You're like a celebrity now," Christina smirks, tilting her head to the side.

I roll my eyes, truly sick of hearing that.

She has invited us over to dinner. Us= Me + Eric + Violet.

None of us knew Jake was going to be here. Although from the way they were flirting at the photoshoot, I knew something was bound to happen.

Eric takes a sip of his water, looking very cramped in my old apartment. We are all sat around the kitchen table, Christina being the only one who is drinking. Eric told me to try a bit of wine if I wanted to because he is driving us back, but I declined his offer. Violet keeps popping in and out of the kitchen, showing her dad what she found in the living room cupboards. It makes Christina uncomfortable, and I can see why, knowing what kind of things she has in her drawers. But that would not stop Violet.

A couple of minutes ago, she came in with a naked Barbie doll. I gave Christina a look. It's not my property. She shrugged.

"I'm not like a celebrity," I lean back in the creaky kitchen chair, feeling Eric's arm there.

"Oh, come on," Jake smirks, showing his dimples, "You've had the paps following you all week."

It's true. I remember on Tuesday Eric had to put his hand over my face and lead me into the nearest hotel because some especially stubborn photographers were following us down the street.

"That's doesn't make me a celebrity," I look down at the clean plates on the table, feeling Eric's fingers working circles on the back of my neck.

"Whatever you want to call it," he grins, glancing at Christina and receiving a smile.

We stay until 6, knowing that it's a week day tomorrow and work for Eric is inevitable. It won't be a full day at work but he must get up early nevertheless.

Christina and Jake walk us down to the lobby, and by the way Jake has his arm around her waist I begin to think that they won't be saying goodbye to each other tonight. Eric shakes Jakes hand, and I give him a quick hug. Violet high-fives Christina and receives a pat on the head from Jake.

After we all exchange our little gestures, it is time to walk outside. I hold Violet's hand as Eric dawdles behind us, calling something to Jake.

Then I stop in my tracks, not quite sure of what is in front of me. My snow-white car is supposed to stay snow white. There was no rain, no mud or anything that could have made it dirty. And as I get closer, I realize it is not dirty. It is red.

It is smeared with red. I step closer, furrowing my eyebrows. It looks like paint has been poured over the bumper and the windows. And then I read what it says on the side: _SLUT_.

Eric is quick to react, mostly because I am still quite confused about the whole situation. I read the word repeatedly, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. There is only one person who has done this before and could do it again. I look around my shoulders, holding Violet close to me. She is saying something, but I ignore her.

"Tris, get inside," Eric mumbles, starting to push me back into the lobby. He takes Violet's arm and sends her inside from where we came from. Somehow Jake runs out of the building, taking hold of both of my arms, as if he was a trained body guard. I find myself inside and safe with Eric making phone calls, Christina looking puzzled, Jake trying to talk to me and Violet clenching her jaw.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

It's silent in our bedroom. The time is about 10 in the evening. We sent Violet to bed after telling her that everything is okay, which is clearly a lie. I pace the room with my hands on my hips and Eric sits on the bed watching me.

My car was replaced in a matter of minutes. Police have been informed. Extra security has been placed around the city. And I am still feeling like we are not safe at all.

I fold my arms, looking down at him, "It was her, wasn't it?"

Eric rubs his beard with one hand, taking a deep breath. When he doesn't answer within five seconds, I raise my voice.

"I thought she was in prison!"

He gets up and hushes me, "Keep your voice down," it sounds like he wants to say more, but he doesn't.

I glare at him, shaking my head, "I can't believe you- "

"You're saying this is my fault?" he tries to keep his voice quiet but at this stage it is impossible.

"She is supposed to be in jail! Do you not remember what she did?!" I gesture to my face, "What if she got her hands on Violet? What would you have done then?"

Eric scrunches up his face, as if not wanting to hear any of this, "She wouldn't hurt her."

"She's a psychopath," I state, "And you did not jail her." I close my eyes, the red letters jumping out at me again.

I put a hand on my face, sighing until a little squeak comes out. And then suddenly, I am crying. Eric's arms wrap around me. I push him away quickly.

"I want her imprisoned," I say, wiping my cheeks. Eric nods in agreement, probably just for the sake of agreeing with me.

"Tris," he sighs, a hand on my shoulder, "I promise you… there are people looking for her out there right now."

I glance into his eyes and start feeling angry again. She is supposed to be locked up. And she is not. And I feel that Eric has something to do with it.

 **Uh-oh. Susan is back. Review and tell me what you think :)**


	11. The Plan

For some reason, Eric lets me sleep in. He takes Violet to school and then comes home, waking me with his loud thudding against a treadmill. I glance at the clock and realize it is 11am. He should be at work. I guess he is skipping today.

I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes. I am still mad at him. And I would come up to him right now and ask what he thinks he is doing- skipping work and all. But I allow myself to make assumptions, because they are probably correct. And I don't care. I just want to avoid him today.

I get up and walk over to the window, looking down at the main parking lot below the building. My car is back, but it's new. As if nothing has ever happened yesterday. The only difference I can pick out from this distance is how the white brilliance of it shines in the sun. That's how I know my car was scrapped, replaced by an exact copy. I roll my eyes. Typical.

"Hey," I hear him behind me.

An inevitable sigh escapes my mouth and I turn, giving him a small smirk, "Hello."

I'm guessing that the whole avoiding think isn't going to work out. I live with him.

He drapes his sweaty shirt over his shoulder and unscrews his plastic bottle. His chest rises up and down, glistening from the sweat. His breathing is uneven. I watch as he takes a gulp of his protein shake, or whatever that gross mixture in his bottle is supposed to be and fold my arms. I am not talking first.

He nods slightly, "You feeling okay?"

"Yes," I answer eagerly. He gives me a strange look, "Why are you not at work?"

He pauses before answering, driving me insane with how chilled he is, "I figured I'd stay with you today."

"In case I get attacked?"

His eyebrows drop, "Stop. Just… I couldn't leave you today."

I take a deep breath and approach the wardrobe, starting to pick out the outfit for the day. I settle with a pair of jeans and a baggy shirt. Anything to feel comfortable.

When I turn around, Eric is still standing there with his sweaty body and an almost-empty protein shake bottle.

"Well?" I ask, rather rudely. He raises his eyebrows as if not understanding what I am getting at, "Aren't you going to shower?"

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Halfway into breakfast, (if it counts as breakfast at almost noon), I decide to put down my glass of orange juice just a little bit too hard against the table, which makes Eric snap.

"Can you stop being so immature?"

I get riled up for no reason, "Immature?" My eyes glare daggers at him, but for some reason it makes him calmer.

"I know you're stressed, but I have done everything I could to- "

"What? No, you haven't!"

Eric frowns, chewing the last bit of food in his mouth as he leans back in his seat.

"There is a psychopath out there, trying to hurt- "

"Susan is not a psychopath- "

"You're protecting her again!" I get up, ignoring his voice as I walk out of the kitchen. Unbelievable. It is absolutely exhausting to argue with him but when he says shit like that, it's like I have no control over myself.

"Will you listen to me?" he grabs my arm and pushes me into the bedroom, shutting the door behind us. I raise my hands in defeat and go over to the window, putting a hand over my face.

The is a long pause before he starts talking. I hear him sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Why don't we go somewhere for a while?"

I turn to look at him, "What do you mean?"

He has his elbows on his knees, glancing up at me from time to time. I see the letter 'T' popping out on his wrist, "Violet is going on that school trip, remember?"

I sigh and nod, gesturing for him to continue.

"While she is away, we can use that time for our advantage. Go somewhere… take some time off. Get away from all of this."

"You mean go on holiday?"

Eric smiles slightly, shrugging, "If you put it like that."

I nod and stay silent for a moment, starting to potter around the room, watching my feet as I walk.

It would be nice to get away. And with Violet on her own "holiday", it would be sort of fitting.

"Look," Eric wraps his arms around me, bringing me back to reality, "Everything will be sorted. They will find her and take care of things here while we're away," it sounds like a promise, but I can't be sure, "Violet will be in a different state. Far away from here," he pauses, "I could even send someone with her."

I smile slightly, pressing my face against his chest. His grip on me tightens.

"I guess we could do that," my eyes close and I sigh, this time because everything feels normal, "On one condition."

"What?" Eric kisses my temple.

"I get to pick where we go."


	12. The Weather Warnings

It has been a week since we've decided to get away, and finally Eric agreed to the idea of me picking the location. He has been dubious because of the places I have suggested, which makes no sense. I asked him where he wants to go and he said Lanzarote, Bahamas or Africa.

Compared to those choices, mine seem very watered down. But come on… England can't be that bad.

"For the last time," Eric sighs, flopping down onto the bed, "We can afford it. You don't have to go on that stupid money saving website."

My fingers hover over the laptop keyboard before I glance over at him, "We're going away for 3 days. What is the point? Besides… Violet would want to come if we go somewhere that exotic."

He smirks, propping his head up as he watches me, "Then I will take her wherever she wants to go."

I understand that money isn't a problem for him. But coming from where I did, it feels pretty dumb and uncomfortable to pay thousands for a 3-day getaway.

"I thought you told me I could pick where we go?"

"You can, but… ugh!" he drops his head onto the pillow, shutting his eyes.

Ignoring him, I open the bookmark I saved earlier today. A cute little cottage appears on the screen of my laptop with prices and facilities listed on the right-hand side.

$400 for two people. For 3 days. Breakfast included.

Satisfied, I get off the chair and walk over to Eric with the laptop in one hand, "Take a look."

He rolls his eyes before sitting up and taking the device off me. I watch him furrow his eyebrows and type a few things, knowing he'll say this is a mistake.

"It's a cottage… with no Wi-Fi," his grey eyes glance up.

"Oh, stop being such a baby!" I sit down next to him, pointing out the image on the screen, "Look at the price! And the view! I mean… it's the perfect place to go for 3 days!"

"I don't know," he scratches the side of his beard, "It seems a bit cheap. It's got a 3-star rating."

It takes me all the power I have within me not to slap him across the face.

"Oh, please," I whine, leaning in closer, "I want to go there."

"You _want_ to go there?" he seems surprised, as if I am only choosing the location because of the price.

"Yes," I clarify, reaching over to scroll down the page, showing him more images of the area, "It's near a beach. There's loads of places to visit. And apparently that little village is famous for its fish and chips."

He watches me, and I think that he is considering saying yes. He doesn't reply. He looks back at the laptop screen.

I take the silence as acceptance and crawl behind him, resting my chin on his shoulder, "Please? Can we go there?"

I feel him sigh against me. It is a bit concerning that I may be dragging him into doing something he doesn't want to do… but that concern disappears as soon as I remember how he sticks up for my stalker. He will just have to deal with it.

"Fine," I squeal and hug him from behind, feeling him smirk against my cheek, "Alright, don't get too excited."

"This will be perfect."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

I spend the next day stuck in Eric's office, looking at various job offers against his will. He said with the experience I have working with him, I could get an amazing job as an assistant, but I am positive he just wants me to work for him again.

The door starts rattling and I assume it is Eric returning from his training session, but then Jake walks in. He smiles as soon as he sees me, holding a cardboard box above his head, "How's it going?"

"Hey," I greet him, shutting the laptop on the desk, "What is that?"

"Oh," he grins, glancing at the box like he only just noticed it, "Christina asked for me to drop this off."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Some of your things she found," he clarifies.

"Oh," I smile, getting up off the big chair. He places the box on the table, "Thanks."

I refrain from opening it in case there is something embarrassing in the box. For example, underwear.

It's crazy to think that I moved out almost a year ago. And now somebody might be taking my place. I smirk at Jake, "Is she busy?"

"She's at work," he rolls up both of his sleeves, pacing around the room, touching stuff out of curiosity, "I heard you and Eric are going on holiday."

"Well, it's not really a holiday," I walk around the desk until I am next to him, watching as he pokes a metallic statue on a shelf, "Violet will be on a school trip so we figured we'd also take some time off."

"That sounds like a holiday," Jake grins, showing his dimples.

"It's not a holiday," I repeat, "Besides, Eric doesn't feel like going to England… for whatever reason. We'll just explore and," I perch on the edge of the desk, "I dunno. But it's not a holiday."

He releases a chuckle, "Well, I'll mind your apartment while you're away. Christina will too," I am about to protest when he cuts me off, "We'll water your plants."

An image of them fucking on our couch pops into my head.

"W-We don't have any plants," I say.

"Oh," he chuckles again, shrugging, "Then we'll feed your fish."

"We don't have fish either," I sense that he is going to say something, so I point to the door, "Hey, I should get going. It's time to pick up Violet from school."

"Oh. Sure," he nods frantically, making his way over to the door, "I will walk you out."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

In the evening, Eric starts whining again. Anything to put me off going to that cottage. I ignore him the best I can, slipping into my pyjama shirt.

"I checked the weather, and it's going to be raining for the whole time we will be there," he grumbles behind me.

"Eric, I told you there are lots of things to see. There are museums and various cafes. We won't have to be outside at all."

It is silent for a second, "Yeah, well what about the Wi-Fi? How will we contact Violet-"

"There is an internet café right next to the hotel," I turn to look at him. He looks defeated, "Would you relax?"

He runs a hand down his face, looking over at his packed suitcase with the saddest eyes. I start laughing, slapping his shoulder playfully.

"Eric, it's a three-day getaway!"

It seems ridiculous to have that sort of attitude, but I must admit that Eric spent most of his life glued to technology and obsessing over his business. It might be hard to part with it, no matter how long.

"It will be fun. We will have a good time," I approach him, wrapping my arms around his neck, "And do things and eat things- "

"Wow, you're really selling it," he smiles softly, leaning down to kiss me. I respond enthusiastically.

"Everything will be fine. You might not want to leave."

"I wouldn't push it."

"Is that a threat?"

"No," he smirks, pecking my lips.

"I have a feeling the weather will be great you know."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

We walk out of the airport mid-afternoon to hail a cab. I drag my suitcase along the cobbled ground, feeling Eric close behind me. We made it to England. We flew in coach which provided zero leg space for Eric. Or so he said. At least he is not arguing about anything yet.

I secure the travel wallet around my neck, causing Eric to roll his eyes, "You're just jealous."

Eric finds a free cab and starts loading our two suitcases into the truck. I take a moment to look around. Not a lot of people here. Cloudy skies, which I expected. Beautiful greenery in the distance, which is probably where we are headed. I glance up when a clap of thunder roars in the sky.

Eric glances at me, probably feeling all cocky because he managed to predict the weather.

I smile and wave a hand at him, "It's just thunder. We get that in Chicago all the time."

As if to prove me wrong, the clouds erupt and it starts raining in sheets. I step under the roof which happens to be close to our taxi. Eric shoots me a small smirk, quickly opening the door and getting in.

 _I told you so._ I don't have to hear him say it because it's written all over his face.


End file.
